


exceptional

by C0SMICNYU



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Season 3B Rewrite, BAMF Stiles, Family Drama, Hybrid Stiles Stilinski, Pack Feels, Pack Mom Melissa McCall, Protective Mikaelson Family, Stiles Stilinski is a Mikaelson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29940264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C0SMICNYU/pseuds/C0SMICNYU
Summary: Stiles wasn’t lying when he said he was something special.
Relationships: Stiles Stilinksi & Others, Stiles Stilinski & The Mikaelsons, Stiles Stilinski & The Pack
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones

If you ask anyone, they would say Stiles Stilinski was mediocre.

He’s 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones with sarcasm as his only defense mechanism. He’s not a threat like the people he runs with. Not like the werewolves with fangs, glowing eyes and sharp claws. Not like a banshee with death draped over their shoulders like a cloak and a penchant for finding bodies. Not like a hunter with wolfsbane laced bullets, Chinese ring daggers and a whole basement of dangerous artillery. Hell, he’s not like the sheriff who carries a gun and faces dangers head on and fearlessly or the nurse that helps the pack whenever they get hurt.

Stiles was just _there._ He was just a hovering human, providing unnecessary commentaries at the wrong times. Often leading to him getting slammed into a wall or getting scolded with a glare and glowing eyes.

The pack and everyone that ever interacts with Stiles should be annoyed but instead, they just felt endeared. There was just something about the teen that drew you in. Yes, his mouth was always running but he was dependable. He was the glue of the pack, always there with information about whatever creature they’re battling and there when the battle is over, providing comfort and affirmations of their amazing performance on the field.

But even with all those amazing things Stiles did, the pack still felt something off about him. There was this underlying feeling they try to bury when they’re around him. Like there’s something that the teen was keeping from them, something scarily powerful simmering in his fragile body.

They knew that Stiles had some sort of spark. When they confronted him about it, all he did was grin and told them, “I’m something special.”

They should’ve believed him.

(shameless plug!! here's a lydia-centric wip: [wailing woman ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955762/chapters/73739061))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i'm late to the fricking hype but that doesn't mean i don't love it equally! i do hope this story is good. i actually really like the stiles/mieczyslaw mikaelson trope soooo yeah! r&r <3


	2. intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stiles feels someone's presence but he can't pinpoint where it's coming from exactly.

If you asked Stiles about his feelings towards his family, he would say it was complicated. Stiles didn’t hate his family, no. Despite the years of constant backstabbing, manipulation and gaslighting from all members of the Mikaelsons, he still loved them. ‘Always and forever’, they vowed. Stiles never broke promises.

Yes, he left them as soon as the chance was given but who wouldn’t? He, of all people, deserved time away from the toxicity of the Mikaelson family. It was hard enough being a member of the family but being the twin of his deceased brother, Henrik, made his siblings even more _unbearable._

He deserved a break from centuries of hovering siblings and manipulations in every form possible.

So he left.

After travelling to different places, making his mark on history with his magic, he finally settled in a small town called Beacon Hills. He found a spell in his mother’s old grimoire that could de-age him into an infant. All it took was talking to an old friend that he saved a few years back, a few bumps in the plan, a locked memory and he was finally a child again.

With no memory of his past endeavors and family, he was able to grow up like a normal kid. But he wasn’t expecting to get drawn back into the supernatural business.

Flashforward a few years later and his best friend gets bitten by a werewolf and everything just rushed into his mind like a bullet. He remembered the night Henrik was mauled by wolves and every dark blot on his history that followed thereafter. He remembered and he was so scared that his friends would shun him if he revealed his past. So he kept it to himself and continued being the boisterous teen that he was known as.

Things were going well and he was currently squished between Lydia and Scott, watching Princess Diaries on the large flatscreen television in Derek’s loft.

There was comfort in knowing that he was surrounded by the people he loved and trusted the most. He felt the comfort and affirmation of friendship in the tiny gestures of touch they shared with him. Be it a head resting on his shoulder or a subtle rub of the hand, his affections for them were clearly reciprocated.

He wasn’t expecting things to always be good. The pack had gone through more than enough rough patches before they became this ragtag group of mismatched, broken people.

It took time before they realized that fighting together was more useful than fighting on different sides, so they came together and it was beautiful.

They bared their secrets to one another in broad daylight, never hiding anything.

Which is why Stiles felt so guilty.

When he first received his memories, it was at the wrong time. The spell he cast was supposed to give him his memories only when he turned 18. But Scott getting bitten by a werewolf and the pair of them getting dragged into the world of the supernatural seemed to nullify the spell 2 years earlier.

The very hour the pair split up, Stiles felt a cold sensation flood his body and then he was out cold. The next thing he knew, he woke up on the floor with memories from many centuries melded up in his mind. Along with a thirst for blood and a penchant for magic.

The first time he felt that parched feeling of thirst, he was _horrified._

Living as a normal human being with normal food as sustenance for 16 years completely cancelled out the centuries he spent living off blood. It was a completely foreign concept to him now and he was scared of losing control, leading to accidental murder.

So he did the next best thing which was to steal blood bags from the nearest hospital. All it took was compelling an innocent nurse and coercing her into giving him 2 bags per type they had. He was in and out in 5 minutes, a satisfied look on his face.

He bought a mini-fridge and stocked it under his bed, concealing it with a shit ton of spells as precaution. Being friends with wolves that invaded his room at any given time made you sort of conscious and it was a good thing Stiles wasn't that into sex, otherwise he would’ve been more adamant on locking his room up.

It took a few days of getting used to before Stiles found out just how many days he could go without drinking blood. (It was 5 days.) His control came with the memories and the witchy side of him was sated by a few orders of curly fries, thankfully. He would have staked himself if he had to give up the goodness of fast food. Not that staking himself would work, of course.

The guilt sometimes got overwhelming, like right now. Being surrounded by these people that he was attached to made his still heart feel like it had a weak pulse. Stiles knew that codependency wasn’t advisable and getting attached to people that would die was just going to hurt him in the end. He knew that but there was a pull on his very soul that bound him to them. He could feel the strings that connected them thrumming with life. When he concentrated enough during meditation, the strings would materialize and the sight of them was breathtaking.

The wispy strings were all different colors, tying their small group in an amazing ball of love and companionship.

It was confirmation that he indeed shared something special with them and he couldn’t wait until he had the strength to actually reveal himself and show them the beauty of the pack bonds.

He wanted to do it on his own terms but life never gave Stiles what he wanted. He was an abomination of nature and this was the mother’s way of exacting her anger.

The revelation of Stiles’ real species and history started on a quiet Tuesday.

The day started normally. He picked Scott and ISaac up, then they went to Erica and then Boyd. Then their group met at school, heading off to their classes in a spur of mindless chatter.

Things were going great until they weren’t.

Stiles knew as soon as he entered his classroom that there was someone watching him. He could feel the rising hair on his nape, like there was danger nearby but he couldn’t pinpoint where. He felt on edge the entire day and it was taking its toll on his concentration. That and the pack could smell the more potent scent of anxiety that rolled off the teen in waves. He usually had that scent on him, along with enthusiasm and a bunch of other muddled emotions but this time it was sheer, unadulterated anxiety and discomfort.

As soon as the last bell rang, the pack immediately surrounded the teen. “Stiles.” Scott said softly, snapping him out of the staring contest he was having with the window.

Stiles blinked, turning to his friends. “Hey. What’s up?”

They were silent for a while before Jackson broke it. “You smell like shit. What’s going on?”

The group turned to him with a glare. “Dude.” Scott and Isaac hissed under their breaths. Lydia rolled her eyes and sat beside Stiles. “No, really. I can’t smell your emotions but I could almost taste the anxiety you’re projecting. So what’s wrong?” The redhead asked.

Stiles looked hesitant for a second but that was quickly changed when he felt the signs of danger spike up. “I… I can feel something, a presence. It’s like someone’s staring at me and projecting hostile intentions but I can’t seem to pinpoint where the hell it’s coming from.”

“What do you mean hostile intentions?” Boyd asked.

Stiles turned to them with a faraway look. “An intent to kill.”

* * *

There was nothing.

The pack scoped the entire school and the surrounding forests, looking for a scent but there was no trace of anyone ever being there. They chalked it up as his senses on alert after the fight they recently had with the Kanima and Gerard. Stiles thought differently but he wouldn’t voice it. He’d just do his own investigations later on.

After being brought home by Jackson and Lydia, he set off on a research spree. He assumed that whatever creature this is, it’s a threat. He wouldn’t go so far to say that he was scared of the threat because there was only a small list of things Stiles feared and he could count it with his fingers.

But this thing that’s lurking intends to hurt the pack and that was one thing Stiles would never allow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chap! yay!


End file.
